


Against My Better Judgement

by orphan_account



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Feels, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, may as well be read as oc's
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-08 00:27:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7735918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There's so much that I've got to lose.<br/>And it all starts with you."</p><p>Or</p><p>Mark's quest to un-fuck up everything he has done for the past four months.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Against My Better Judgement

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a mess, but hey, I wanted a work I could be flexible with, so this was born.  
> Bear with me if you will.  
> Smileyface

4:00AM  
The phone was heavier than usual as it rested in his palms, bright lights glaring as the video played.  
It was a short documentary on some truck drivers in Australia and their little rat-dog. Obviously something that needed his direct attention at four o'clock in the damn morning.

Mark groaned, stretched, and dropped his phone onto the mattress.  
4:15AM

He wanted to do something. Anything other than sleep.  
Maybe eat?  
Read through Twitter or tumblr, check what Jack was-

No.  
Jack was sleeping. He was sleeping and he was over it and he didn't want to pursue any sort of friendship after it ended.  
After they ended.  
4:17AM

He wasn't sleeping.  
Mark knew that.  
This is why he couldn't stop himself from moving his thumb over Jack's name on the Skype application that had somehow loaded itself up on his phone.  
One exhale of breath, and Mark pressed down.

4:18AM  
He would regret this in the morning.  
After four rings echoing in Mark's cheap earbuds, Jack answered.  
And there was a girl standing behind him, smiling and pressing her forehead against Jack's back in a way that said 'more than friendly'.

If he ended the call now he could say it was all an accident. I'm sorry, have a good day, talk later. He wanted to. But he couldn't stop staring at the girl latching herself to Jack like she owned him, pressing light kisses to the nape of his neck and staring straight at the camera - straight at Mark - as if waiting for some grand reaction.  
There wasn't one.

Mark just pressed the phone to his chest and held down the button on the side until his phone switched off completely.

4:30AM  
Mark's rough palms scratched at his eyelids. It was late and he was tired and he should sleep. He knew that. He shouldn't be letting himself cry, he knew that, too.  
This was all so stupid. He was stupid.  
And yet he still cried himself to sleep, for the second time this week, pining over someone that didn't want him.  
Afraid of losing someone that wasn't even his.


End file.
